


Future Perfect

by darthjamtart



Category: Earth: Final Conflict
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthjamtart/pseuds/darthjamtart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Here. You hold it.” Doors sounds brusque — Doors always sounds brusque — and then Boone is holding a small, cloth-covered bundle: the pink tip of a nose and two bright eyes staring up at him.</p><p>“When did the Resistance get a baby?” Boone asks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miranda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miranda/gifts).



“Here. You hold it.” Doors sounds brusque — Doors always sounds brusque — and then Boone is holding a small, cloth-covered bundle: the pink tip of a nose and two bright eyes staring up at him.

“When did the Resistance get a baby?” Boone asks.

“About six hours after an alien knocked up Agent Beckett,” Lili says. She pats him on the shoulder when he tries to hand the baby off to her. “No dice, Will.”

He knows better than to say anything about women and natural inclinations, but it’s still tempting, if only for a moment, if only to see how she’d react. Probably by punching him, baby or no baby. The bundle in his arms squirms, and he looks down, distracted, just as one tiny arm breaks free of the cloth wrapping. Boone frowns, examining the open palm with its ruddy blemish.

“Does it have a rash?” Boone asks, and Dr. Belman tsks, frowning at him.

“He,” she corrects, and Boone glances at Doors, who glowers back. “And no, as far as we can tell. It could just be a birthmark.”

“Could,” Doors says, his most foreboding tone. Boone’s started wondering if the man had a side career on the stage. Resistance planning is half politics, half dramatics.

Maybe that was always what politics were like, though. The baby gurgles, wriggling, and Boone unfolds a corner of the blanket so that the other arm can swing free, flailing against Boone’s chest.

He and Kate probably would have had kids by now. “Does he have a name?” Boone asks.

“Agent Beckett said his name is Liam,” Lili offers. She frowns, glancing across the room. Quieter, she adds, “I don’t like what Doors has planned for her.”

“Can you guarantee she won’t betray us to the Taelons?” Doors asks.

“Has anyone asked her?” Boone counters.

“She’s been unconscious,” Dr Belman says. “But her MI is still functional. If she remembers any of this when she wakes up, she won’t have a choice.”

“It’s a strange world you’ve been born into, kid,” Boone murmurs to the bundle in his arms. If the baby has any extra awareness from his alien heritage, it’s not apparent. _Liam,_ Boone thinks, and the baby grasps his finger in one tiny fist, eyes locked onto Boone’s chin, and —

_A dying species, endless potential, a civilization with eons of history — so much lost already, and there is Da’an, a few other recognizable faces in an ocean of light. Grief and betrayal and endless silence when before there had been the constant presence of kin._

Boone almost drops the baby, barely manages to set him down on a nearby countertop, breaking the connection. “What the hell?” he says, and then the baby is growing before his eyes, limbs lengthening, body surrounded by a strange glow. “What _was_ that?”

“The Kimera,” says Liam, now the size of a small child, perhaps five or six years old. He tilts his head, looking at Boone. “You recognized their murderers.”

“Da’an,” Boone says. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, but he feels like he’s _lived_ through it, and his CVI recorded every instance. Lili had told him about sharing with Da’an — would his CVI have recorded that experience, as well? Better than sex, she’d implied, which isn’t really anything Boone had wanted to share with Da’an even once, much less over and over via the CVI. But sharing with the baby, with Liam, hadn’t been anything Boone would describe as _pleasant_.

“Take me to him,” Liam says.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lili objects, at the same time Doors says, “That thing’s not leaving.”

Liam turns to stare at Doors. “Am I your prisoner?” he asks, and it’s uncanny, the adult-like diction coming from such a small child.

“No,” says Lili, but she sounds uncertain. Doors doesn’t say anything. Liam looks back at Boone.

“Take me to Da’an,” he says again. “We have much to discuss.”

***

The embassy is as hectic as Boone has ever seen it, but Da’an is alone, as though he’s been waiting for their arrival. He flushes blue when he sees the child, returning to his façade with visible difficulty.

“Sinaui euhura,” Da’an greets them, arms moving gracefully.

“As you always have,” Liam says. “In one way or another.”

“I appreciate your bringing the hybrid child to me,” Da’an tells Boone, without looking away from Liam. “You may leave us now.”

“He should stay,” Liam objects, before Boone can take a single step. “Bear witness, if nothing else. But his species has a stake in our dealings, I believe.”

Da’an says nothing, but gestures for Boone to remain.

“Have you come for revenge?” Da’an asks.

“On what grounds?” Liam asks, smiling. “I’ve only been alive a few hours.”

“Your prevarication is unnecessary,” Da’an says. “Were you as any other child born on this planet, you would not have come here. Nor would you have made your presence known to the commonality.”

“I needed to know what you had become,” Liam says. “Ha’gel’s memories could only show me what you were.”

“And are you satisfied with what you have seen?” Da’an asks.

“You’re dying,” Liam says. “And you would use this planet as a fountain of youth, leaving it dry and barren in your wake.”

“I would not.”

Liam shrugs. “Your synod, then. As you’ve done to other planets, before.”

Da’an has no response to that.

“I can help you,” Liam says.

“Why?” Da’an asks, and Liam steps forward, holds up one tiny, red-hued palm.

“Let me show you.”

And Boone watches as Da’an drops his façade, light spilling around them as they share. If he’s meant to serve as witness, it hardly seems worthwhile. Eventually, the light seeps back in, the glow dimming as their hands and minds separate.

“We are agreed, then,” Da’an says. “You will live on Earth, and work with our scientists as needed.”

“I want my family,” Liam says. “The biological donors. You will remove their motivational imperatives and give them the option of staying with me, if they want to.”

“It seems,” Da’an says, dryer than Boone would have thought possible, “That a motivational imperative is not necessary for cooperation between our species.” His gaze lingers on Boone, and Boone tilts his head, not quite an acknowledgment.

He’d always known that everything could change at any moment. Working as a double agent pretty much guaranteed a lack of sure footing. Boone hesitates in the doorway, looking back at Liam and Da’an. When Kate had talked about the future, about interspecies cooperation, he'd like to think that this is what she might have envisioned.


End file.
